


Express Delivery Order (6 of 6)

by Biggreenfeet



Category: Fallout - Fandom, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Cusses, Eventual Sex, F/M, Long format, Novel, Raul is BFF, Raul making quips, Sassy, Slow Burn, Why do I write these long-ass things?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-07 03:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5441555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biggreenfeet/pseuds/Biggreenfeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does a charismatic self-preservationist know about love or friendship? Courier Six finds more than she bargained for in her search for vengeance. How do you build a future with no past? </p><p>Eventual slow burn Courier (Six) and Boone. Raul is the comedic sidekick and I love him so much for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remind Me Not to Get on Your Bad Side

**Chapter 1: Remind Me Never to Get on Your Bad Side**

 

To say the day was hot was like saying the Waste was harsh. It was the Mojave. It was always hot. The midday sun burned into their backs as their boots kicked up dust across the arid landscape. The shimmer of heat rose from the desert making them squint through the haze for signs of life on the horizon.

Raul was making faces behind her back. He’d joined the courier on her crazy revenge kick because, well… _Because she saved me from Tabitha for one thing_. But the aged Ghoul knew part of it was something else. The color of her hair was _almost_ right. The gunslinger’s petit figure _about_ her height. The shape of her face? _Pretty_ similar. _She reminded me of Rafaella…Until she opened her mouth_. He frowned at the thought.

 Rafaella had been sweet, kind. She was soft-spoken and timid around strangers, gripping his arm and standing behind his average frame until he could assuage her fears. Before the bombs had rained irradiated hell upon mankind, he’d pictured his little sister growing up to work at healing people. There was a warmth in her eyes, and she’d had a surprisingly strong constitution and steady hands. Radiation poisoning certainly wasn’t pretty, but she had never shied from the horror of his rotting body. He remembered the oddly shaped scar on her knee, his eyes meeting the twin star shapes at Six’s temple and forehead, clearly visible. The shaved patch interrupted the long length of onyx that hung past her shoulders on the rare occasions she let it down. Where he imagined other women would attempt to cover the ugliness of the wounds, it was a badge of honor for the gunslinger. _That or an unsightly reminder_. She’d kept the hair on the entire right side of her head shorn to her scalp, showing off the scars.

Six was the mercenary type, clad in worn leather digs, an ancient-looking Pip-Boy strapped to her wrist. At her hips she’d strung a gun belt, every miniature loop hugging a .44 caliber bullet. Sunlight caught the pearlescent grip of the magnum glued to her hip, a slight smile crossing Raul’s ugly features. He knew his way around a revolver, but whether he cared to tell _her_ that remained to be seen. _Say what you will, but Boss has mighty good taste in guns_.

He wasn’t sure why the woman had climbed the winding path to him, but he had a feeling it was one of her _whims_. _“You get these odd urges a lot, Boss?”_ the Ghoul had been crouching behind the rusted yellow dumpster, bullets slinging past their heads. She’d just grinned that over-confident grin at him, her eyebrows quirked in amusement. He heard the _chink_ of the pin as she yanked a grenade from her belt, tossing it half-assed into the tangle of hulking blue bodies. It had lessened the number of foes, but the rest were angrier than ever and roaring for blood. Raul had watched her dart from behind the dumpster, the thunderclap of gunfire reverberating against the grimy steel of his shelter.

It was like watching a savage ballet. She danced across the open battleground, aiming, shooting, aiming, shooting. The casings fell in slow motion, a line of bodies dropping heavily to the ground in synchronization. A twisted sense of respect had risen in the old man’s chest. He’d decided at that moment, for better or worse, that the little spitfire would be calling the shots. _At least for a little while_. Raul squeezed an eye shut, taking aim and watching his captors fall like overstuffed feed sacks to the red-stained dirt.

 

***

            “So let me get this straight, Boss.” Raul was puzzling it out. “You don’t remember _anything_? Anything at all from your old life?”

            “Nope.” She was cleaning her gun by the campfire, a cigarette hanging out the side of her mouth.

            “Not even your name.” He was restating what she’d told him.

            “That’s right.” A dark curtain fell to the left of her head, loose strands of hair escaping the leather cording at her crown. “The only thing I know is that I was a courier. Courier number Six. Seems as good a name as any.” She was smirking. “’Sides, the boys’ll love it. Sounds mysterious. You know how men like a good mystery woman, amirite?” A wink.

            “And you don’t care about it- the fact that you can’t remember anything.” He was prodding at the can of beans on the makeshift grate over the campfire.

            She shrugged, nonchalant. “Why grieve what you can’t remember? I don’t _miss_ anything. The Doc didn’t find a wedding ring or anything else like that. I don’t _feel_ like I left some kind of family or kin behind- it's just me.”

            “Then why the vengeance, Boss? Couldn’t you just settle into a comfortable living as a merc or somethin’?” his voice was hopeful.

            “Because I _remember_ being shot in the head. I _remember_ that smug sonofabitch in the checkered suit. Polished silver peashooter, callin’ me _dollface_ and _baby._ ” She spat, the spittle sizzling in the flames. “I remember the weight of the dirt crushing the air outta my lungs…” her breathing had quickened, and she swallowed hard, fighting the rising panic tightening her chest.  The blue-violet landscape stretched out before them, and she focused on the stars winking at them from overhead, the hysteria slipping quietly into the night. _I remember a time when the idea of dark, enclosed spaces didn’t make my hands shake like this_. She had slipped her hands under her arms, hiding the tremors.

            Raul’s voice snapped her out of it. “Sorry I asked.” She felt the Ghoul’s eyes on the scars.

            “Nothin’ to be sorry about. That bastard’s gonna get what’s coming to him, you can be sure of that.” There was a fury behind brilliant blue eyes.

            “Hey Boss?” He scooped a spoonful of lukewarm beans into his ruined mouth.

            “What?”

            “Remind me never to get on your bad side.” He pushed a can towards her, handing her the extra spoon.

            Six just smiled wickedly, sliding the spoon from his grasp.

 

***

            Perhaps cutting across the brown hills really _didn’t_ save them any time, she thought, the chambers of the magnum emptying into the face of the rad scorpion. She caught the movement of its deadly tail in her periphery, throwing herself to the right, and rolling away. Raul took up the slack, finishing the job. The poisonous appendage fell limply to one side, and the courier glared at the giant blue pest, levying a sharp kick to its flank.

“Dick.” She spat on it, delicate fingers pulling the ancient pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket.

“You know those things’ll kill ya Boss.” Raul was absorbed with reloading his gun, a sarcastic grin on his face.

She responded by blowing a haze of smoke his direction, following his example and emptying the chamber of the magnum. Sweat rolled down her face and Six sucked down the smoke, an acrid taste in her mouth. Her fingers fumbled with the bullets and she cursed, dropping one to the ground.

“What do you know about this town-Novac?” exhaustion tainted her voice and she stifled a yawn with a filthy hand.

“Not much, Boss. Heard somethin’ about a giant dinosaur or something.” He shrugged his shoulders, unable to offer more. Raul studied her face. He’d kept his comments about her troubled sleeping patterns to himself. If he _had_ given it more thought, he might have realized that she hadn’t slept through the night since they’d started traveling together.

This hiss of a Sunset Sarsaparilla brought a smile to his face, a grimy claw shoving it towards him.

“You’re gonna rot what’s left of my teeth, Boss.”

She pulled it back towards her chest. “If you don’t want it…” A pruned hand was grabbing for the bottle. “That’s what I thought…” teasing the Ghoul was a selfish kind of fun, and she smirked at him, holding the bottle just out of reach. _Why do you do that to him?_ The small voice came unbidden into her mind. There was something familiar to it, but nothing to recollect. The thought seemed foreign.

Six’s hand propelled the bottle to his chest. “Just take the damned thing already, will ya?” She flicked the extinguished butt to the ground, turning her back to him and stalking towards their belongings. Raul noted another burning cylinder between her lips and the cloud of smoke around her.

 

***

Dusk was just beginning to disappear over the rocky horizon as the mismatched pair rolled into the shabby- looking hub. The Ghoul had been right- a giant dinosaur glared down at them from behind the rusted chain-link, and she furrowed a brow.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me. Really? The god damned dinosaur is a building?” Six’s mood had soured over the course of the day, the lack of sleep setting her nerves on edge. If Raul had comments, he was keeping them to himself. “Is there- _someone in the mouth_?” She rubbed her eyes, unsure.

“Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit! If it ain’t my old friend from Good Springs!” The Securitron’s smiling cowboy face was glowing in the darkness.

“What’re you doing here?” her brows knit together, and she was looking him over suspiciously.

“Don’t rightly know. I just got the notion to make my way to New Vegas. Reckon I’ll find out when I get there.” The screen flickered.

“Quite a coincidence, us meeting like this.” Her tone was insinuating.

Without missing a beat, Victor responded. “Seeing as how this is the only road around, I’d be a sight more surprised if we didn’t run into each other from time to time.”

 _Might as well make use of him if he’s going to creep around._ “You said the men who jumped me were headed this way, right?”

“No, I don’t believe I did. But you might want to ask around. Novac folk usually see anyone travelling this way.” Her eyes were rolling at his side-stepping.

She was fed up and tired at dancing around with the robot. “Goodbye Victor.”

“Be seein’ you.” A shiver ran down her spine.

“C’mon Raul. Let’s see if we can find a room in this dump.” The Ghoul followed wordlessly. _I’ll ask her when that thing’s not staring a hole through us._

 

***

Jeannie May Crawford. The name was certainly a mouthful, and she didn’t like the taste of it. There was something off about the woman, but lack of sleep and too much exertion had pushed the courier to accept the key with a charismatic thank you. The room was costing them 100 caps, much to her displeasure, but she was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed again.

“You’re gonna make this old man sleep on the floor, Boss?”

“This old man is pushing his luck.” The snark didn’t surprise him, and he stifled a laugh, finding her face less than convincing. “Oh, fuck off Raul.” The gunslinger was too tired to bother with the old tinkerer, dropping the pack to the floor and collapsing onto the bed. The coverlet smelled musty, but it was better than a thin sleeping bag on the hard, rocky ground. It was the last cohesive thought she had before passing out cold.

 

***

_“Time to cash out.” His dark, greasy hair is slicked back towards the crown of his head and his eyes sparkle in the darkness. He might have been handsome, but her mind corrects her. Small. Greedy. He pulls the silver disc from the inside pocket of his tacky jacket and it glows, flipping through his fingers and disappearing to his breast again._

_“You’ve made your last delivery, kid.” He pauses and his voice is almost remorseful. “Sorry you got twisted up in this scene.”_

_“It’s not personal.” She finishes the sentence for him in her head, tasting the salt and sweat on the gag in her mouth. There is pressure at her wrists. How many times had she spoken the same kinds of words to someone?_

_A svelte hand slides the blinding silver from his pocket, a thumb delicately pulling back the hammer._

_“A .9mm.” she hears the voice inside her head, reflecting on the absurdity that this is the last thought she’s ever going to have._

_“From where you’re kneeling must seem like an eighteen-karat run of bad luck.” Her eyes are screwed up in rage, pain in her wrists as she fruitlessly tries to rip her hands free. “The truth is,” he raises the barrel, staring down the sights into her saucer-sized eyes. “The game was rigged from the start.”_

_“I don’t believe in luck.” Her brain protests._

_There is an orange blast and everything goes dark._


	2. In the Mouth of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn more about Six. Raul makes funny jokes.

**Chapter 2: In the Mouth of the Beast**  

Something outside of her subconscious pulled the courier from sleep. She raised an eyelid tentatively, then another, feeling her heart begin to palpitate. The darkness felt physically constricting, and she was back in the hole again, reaching through the weight of the dirt, half dead and praying for it to end. Her breaths came in short bursts, the muscles in her chest tightening. _You’re in the motel. You’re not in that hole. You’re in the hotel. You’re not in that hole._ Heat moved through her insides, creeping up her face, limbs pins and needles. It was as if there was a weight pinning her to the bed, and Six’s eyes were wide with terror in the darkness. There was a temptation to scream, but nothing would come out. It took everything the courier had, but she forced her body from the bed, scrambling for the doorknob in the darkness. The door swung open with a bang, and she burst forth, her petit form slamming into the railing.

The courier’s vision doubled as she found herself staring at the ground from the second floor of the ruddy building. The coolness of the night air kissed at her cheeks, the black of her hair shrouding the left side of her face. Her breathing began to slow at the open arcade around her, and she touched a hand to her chest. _What the hell was that?_ The zipper whined as she tugged at the metal, slipping out of the heft of the leather jacket. She folded it over the grime of the railing, sucking in deep breaths and waiting for her heart to slow down. Out of habit her hand went to the worn pocket, sliding the cigarettes and lighter out. It was lit and between her lips before she realized what she was doing, a cloud of silver floating to the narrow overhang of the ceiling.

            She shot a backward glance at the open door, feeling the darkness of the room lurching towards her. Her eyes were clamped shut as she turned away, taking in the stars in the night sky. “So much for 100 caps worth of mattress time.” A sigh sent smoke curling upwards, the lit form of the dinosaur grabbing at her attention. _Let’s go see what that dinosaur is all about_. Her concentration had shifted. Raul would have called it a _whim_ , but he wasn’t around. The puzzlement at his location was overruled by the overwhelming itch to climb inside the stupid dinosaur. There was a complaint in the back of her mind. _Have you always been this impulsive, Boss_? “Shut up, Raul.” She was muttering to herself, looking at the door. The sound of the Pip-Boy light was in her ear as it cast a greenish glow on the door handle.

            The hinges groaned in protest, setting off her nerves, but to her surprise it was unlocked. Apparently the place was a shop of some kind. She felt the temptation to steal a few things, but thought better of it. Stale air met her nose, and her eyes met the stairwell leading to the ridiculous head. The skin on her bare arms prickled, the space more confined than she would have liked. She took the steps one by one, feeling a constricting sensation returning to her chest. Reaching the top of the stairs, Six threw the door open, trying to outrun the oncoming panic. The courier found herself staring up at a pair of angry eyes.

“God damnit! Don’t sneak up on me like that. What do you want?” The man hovered around six feet tall with fair skin and what she assumed was blonde hair under the ridiculous hat.

            “What, you expecting visitors up here or something?” Six snarked at him, not in the mood for the beret’s attitude.

            “Yeah, I guess maybe I am. But not like you.” He paused, looking the woman over and eyes stopping at the right side of her head. “Maybe it should’ve been you I was expecting all along.” She was making a face as he refocused on her. “Why are you here?”

            A dark eyebrow kinked, her voice sarcastic. “Do you treat everyone around here like this?”

            Something clicked in his mind. “Wait. You just got into town. Maybe you shouldn’t go. Not just yet.” An oversized hand rested on his chin.

            He was beginning to offend her. “So now you _want_ something from me.”

            “I need someone I can trust. You’re a stranger. That’s a start.” His eyes were hard.

            The courier’s eyebrow was frozen in place. _Who is this guy?_ “You only trust _strangers_?”

            He cut in sharply. “I said it was a start. This town…Nobody looks me straight in the eye anymore.”

            “What do you want _me_ to do?” her bare arms were crossed over her chest.

            “I want you to find something out for me.” He pulled in a breath, keeping his voice level. "My wife was taken from our home by Legion Raiders while I was on watch one night. They knew when to come, what route to take, and they only took _Carla_. Someone set it up. I don’t know who.”

            Part of her was genuinely surprised. “You’re trying to track down your wife?”

            “My wife’s dead. I want the sonofabitch who sold her.” The sniper was not a very good conversationalist.

            “How do you _know_ she’s dead?” The blue of her eyes met his gaze behind the tinted sunglasses.

            His response was the shortest yet. “I know, alright? And that’s all you need to know.”

            “And what am I supposed to do _if_ I find this person?” Six was amused at his assumption that she would take the job.

            “Bring ‘em out in front of the nest here while I’m on duty. I work nights.” He pulled the beret from his head, shoving it towards her folded arms. “It’ll be our signal, so I know you’re standing with him. And I’ll take care of the rest.”

            “I’ll see what I can do to help you out.” The words spilled from her mouth before she could wrangle them back in.

            “Good.” The terseness never left his voice. “And one more thing. We shouldn’t speak again. Not until it’s over.”

            The gunslinger was nodding at the soldier, the beret making its way to the back pocket of her pants. _What the hell was that, Six? We don’t do charity work!_ She was fumbling with the cigarettes, lost in thought. A slight smoke stream floated past the back of his head, and he turned, staring her down.

            “The hell are you doing?” his voice was only slightly more exasperated.

            “What does it look like?” she brought the tube to her mouth, inhaling.

            He sighed, rubbing at his temples with one hand. “Just hurry it up.”

            She wasn’t willing to admit, even to herself, that she was stalling to keep from the confined space of the stairwell. The cigarette burned down slowly, bits of ash catching rides on small breezes. She studied the back of him. He was certainly built like a soldier. _And that Beret.._. There was something familiar about it, and she wagered he was NCR from what she’d seen and heard so far. His head looked oddly naked without the maroon felt of the hat. _Not the strangest thing I’ve been asked to do, I’m sure._ The courier pontificated silently, jumping at the sting of the hot embers. The cigarette was done, and she had to be too. There was a tiny hint of red-violet on the horizon. It was morning.

            Six got to her feet quietly, letting herself through the door and taking the stairs two at a time to rush back into the chill of the morning air.

            Raul watched her from the second floor, curious. _What’s Boss gone and gotten herself mixed up in now?_

 

***

 

            “You sure you’re not a chimney, Boss?” Raul was making her testy.

            “Shut up.” Smog floated around the hotel room, the ashtray beginning to fill up quickly. “Crack the door if it bothers you so damn much.” Once the light had returned to the room, it ceased to be an issue for her. The mercenary pushed the dread of nighttime in the room from her mind for the time being.

            “You are a very considerate human being, Boss. Anyone ever share that fact with you?” He was pushing the door open and stepping outside. It was still early. She noted silently that the night sniper was outside, making his way back to his quarters.

 _You’re doing a job for this guy and you didn’t even get a name?_ Six wasn’t going to sweat it. That information would come easily enough… _So long as these folks get their asses out of bed._ She was impatient, the interruption of her sleep schedule making her cranky.

Snuffing the cigarette out gruffly, she laid down, lacing her fingers behind her head and staring at the ceiling.

 _“My wife’ dead. I want the sonofabitch that sold her.”_ The gravelly voice was in her ear, her eyelids drooping.

            Raul returned to a snoring, sprawled out Six, a line of drool staining the pillow under her head. He replayed the incident from the previous night in his mind. She had come flying out the door, damn near flipping herself over the railing. _Bad dreams?_ He shrugged to himself.

            “I suppose two holes in your head’ll do that to a person.”

 

***

It was after noon and her mouth tasted like she’d licked the inside of a 200 year-old ashtray. Her tongue clucked against the roof of her mouth, her face twisting in disgust. Raul didn’t seem to be around and she turned the wrist computer towards her to check the time.

            “Fuck.” The curse filled the room. “Where is that rotting asshole? Why’d he let me sleep so long?” She rolled her feet over the side of the bedframe, pointing booted toes at the floor. Fingers tugged and worked to tame the thick black mess of hair tickling at her shoulder. The mercenary still wasn’t sure how her fingers could plait her hair so effortlessly. If she thought about it too much, the strands would collapse into themselves again, and she would curse them in frustration.

            Her stomach growled, protesting the several hours without food. The old man had left an open box of Sugar Bombs on the console. Six had a sneaking suspicion that he’d done it on purpose, but one could never tell with the sarcastic zombie. _Probably just that damn sweet tooth of his._ She swiped the box with one hand, exiting the dingy hotel room for the oppressive heat of the outdoors. A fistful of the sickeningly sweet cereal crunched between her teeth. For the first time since arriving Six really took in the terrain. There was only one proper entrance to the rectangular plan. Anyone entering would have at least _passed_ the office. _Good a place as any to start._ Of the two floors the hotel boasted, only a handful of rooms were actually inhabitable. _We’re looking at a pretty small pool of suspects._ Her gaze fell on the outbuildings across the plaza. There looked to be three of them. The last building, _that fucking dinosaur_ , was sickly green. No one lived in it, but there had been a shop. Perhaps she’d send Raul in to check it out instead…

            “So what’s the plan, Boss?”

Her eyes were the color sky as she trained them on him, nearly choking on the mouthful of Sugar Bombs. “You tryin’ to make me choke?” dry bits of cereal blew from her mouth which each word. She swallowed the rest, looking murderous.

“That’s an attractive look for you, Boss.” He was chortling.

“Fucking zombie.” Six was shaking her head, a small smile at the corners of her mouth. The warmth between them was uncomfortable, alien. _Did I have friends before now?_ The question surprised her, and she pushed it from her mind.

“This old man is all for extended vacations, but I figured one of those _whims_ might hit at any moment.” There was a question hiding in the statement, and she smirked at him.

“Got a job to do here Raul. Lookin’ for a murderer.”

“It’s not you, is it Boss?”

“Might be if you keep it up.” She proffered the cereal, shaking the box at him. “We need to talk to the settlers here.”

“Oh I’m sure everyone will be clamoring to be interviewed by the rotting old man, Boss.” He popped a sugary handful into his mouth.

She sighed in mild frustration. _He has a point_. “Think you can handle that caravan we saw coming into town?”

“Sure Boss.” He had taken the box of cereal, munching contentedly.

She busied herself with lighting a cigarette, wandering towards the office. “Good luck old man.”

 

***

The small fan on the counter was whirring back and forth. Six was grateful for the small breeze it kicked up, wiping the sweat off of her forehead with the back of a hand.

Jeannie May looked like someone’s kindly old grandmother. “Can I help you, dear?”

“Actually, you might be the only person who can help me.” Her face was pretty. “What’s wrong with that guy in the dinosaur at night?” She paused, flashing her baby blues at the woman.

There was a slight, almost indiscernible tick at the corner of the innkeeper’s mouth. “That’s Boone. He’s the nighttime sniper ‘round these parts.” There was pity written on her face. “As far as what’s wrong with him? Nothing that wouldn’t be wrong with any man who loses a wife, I suppose.” The sadness in her voice didn’t quite meet her eyes. “The poor dear.”

“Well that’s just terrible!” Six was laying it on thick, her elbows on the counter, chin resting in her palms.

The old woman continued, “I know he thinks she was kidnapped, but I’m not so sure she didn’t just run off on her own.” She shook her head. “You could tell she was thinking about it ever since the day they arrived.”

“Oh?” she leaned in towards the woman. “I love a good piece of gossip.” _Everybody’s got their exploits…_

Jeannie May lowered her voice a register. “How should I put it?” She looked thoughtful. “I guess you could say she was like a cactus flower. Real pretty to look at, but there was just no getting close to her.”

“Do go on.” The woman seemed to respond to good old-fashioned manners, and that’s what she was going to get.

“She never did take to living here. She liked the big lights and fast living of New Vegas. I got the feeling she was trying to get Boone to leave with her, but I guess she got tired of waiting.” There was something like disdain in the innkeeper’s voice.

“Well that’s about the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Six frowned. “Thank you for clearing that up for me. I’ll have to cut that Boone a break.” Her eyes drifted to the safe in the floor. _Later_.

 “Well it sure was nice talking to you. You let me know if there’s anything you need, dear.”

She’d almost forgotten. “Oh, Jeannie? I’m looking for someone. A gentleman in a checkered jacket. Heard he came through here.”

Jeannie’s face crinkled in disgust. “Well he might’ve been wearing a fancy outfit, but he wasn’t any kind of a gentleman to me. Those hoodlums he was with seemed to know Manny for some reason…” her voice trailed off.

“Manny?” Six fidgeted with a stray piece of hair.

“He’s our daytime sniper, up in the dinosaur’s mouth.” There was pride in her voice.

“I’ll have to pay him a visit then.” She smiled sweetly, dread filling her insides. _That fucking dinosaur._

 

***

 

“Boss, this old man and stairs- not a good combination.” Raul was complaining about his old knees again.

“Fine.” Her tone was acidic, a trail of smoke curling upwards. “You can stay in the gift shop and pick up supplies. I have a feeling we’re going to be moving on from here soon.”

“This _feeling_ \- would you call it a _whimsical_ feeling, Boss?”

“I’m not in the mood, Raul.” She spat, irked.

He put his hands up, placating her. “Ok, ok Boss. No need for that face.” The pair crossed the atrium to the peeling green façade of Dinky, her pulse quickening.

 _You just have to climb the stairs quickly. It’s fine. You’re fine._ She flicked the cigarette as far as it would go, breathing in through her nose. The door swung open, a short, dark-skinned man smiling at the pair of them.

“Welcome to the Dino Bite Gift Shop. My name’s Cliff. If you’re here for the t-rex figurines, you’re just I time. There’s still a few left.”

Six felt the oncoming storm in her chest and headed for the stairs. “Just here to talk to Manny, but Raul here is interested in some supplies.” She shoved past the two of them, flying up the stairs and through the door.

“Darnit. No one ever buys the t-rexes.” The shopkeep turned his attention to Raul, his eyes wide. “So, uh, what can I do for you?”

 

***

Manny Vargas was more personable than Boone, but about as helpful.

“I’m looking for a man in a checkered coat.” The merc was using her sultry register. “Jeannie May said you might be able to…give me a hand?” she watched his eyes roam her petit figure, internally rolling her eyes. _Men are so easy._

“Sure I know him. What do you want with _him_?” he almost sounded jealous.

“He has something that belongs to me.” Her voice was steady, despite the pounding in her chest. She stared out into the open sky, hoping it would come across as aloof.

“You talking about that chip? Man, I don’t think he’s giving that up.” He was studying the piece at her hip.

“You’d be surprised how convincing I can be.” A hand slid into her back pocket, the other tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

 “Well listen, I can definitely help you find him, but I’ve got problems of my own...” His eyes were roaming again. “Maybe we can do a trade. You need my help. There’s something I need too.” _Is he wiggling an eyebrow at me?_

“Forget it, I’ll find him on my own.” She turned without another word, hustling back down the stairs.

Raul’s arms were full, but she shoved past him anyway to jump from the wooden platform to the ground.

“I hate that fucking dinosaur.” She muttered to herself, stalking towards the hotel. _Now, which room belongs to Manny Vargas?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a serious note: Can someone please tell me if this should be tagged/trigger warning-ed for the panic attacks/ claustrophobia? I am afraid I don't know the proper decorum for it. 
> 
> On a not-serious note: I did not expect this chapter to be quite so long, but such is life. Do you love Raul as much as I do? As far as the game went, they were my buddies. I never recruited the Brotherhood girl, and I don't like Cass as a companion. I've had ED-E and Rex, but they were just kinda there.
> 
> Oh, also- I like comments. Feel free to leave them :D
> 
> I HATE THAT FUCKING DINOSAUR.


	3. Breaking and Entering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six likes to pick locks. Who'da thought she'd do it for someone else's benefit?

**Chapter 3: Breaking and Entering**

            The locks on the hotel doors of the Dino Dee-Lite Motel were a joke. Six returned the screwdriver to her boot, pushing the door to Vargas’ room open and creeping in. It was still quiet enough that no one seemed to be out and about. She was using it to her advantage. The courier wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but the hunger in the man’s eyes told her she could exploit her feminine wiles another time if needed. The room was in relative order, save random pieces of laundry scattered around. Bright blue scanned the room, taking note of the three sleeping bags behind the couch. _Having a sleepover, Manny?_ The blinking green of the terminal across the room gave her pause, and she smiled. _Jackpot._

            The orange button clicked pleasingly, illuminated green script scrolling across the dim screen. Her eyes were glued to a single line: _Khan Hospitality_. It was a thank-you letter from a guy named McMurphy. She read quietly to herself.

“You made the right choice putting us up and keeping it quiet. This weasel Benny’s been twitchy since we stole that package from his boss.” _So it has a name._ Her insides seared with hot anger at the memory of the checkered jacket. “…When I found out we’d be passing by on our way to Boulder City...One day you’ll remember where you belong and your brothers and sisters will welcome you back.” A wry smile graced her features. _Dirt and information. Two of my favorite things._

The door to the room cracked open and she eyed the center of the yard, looking for movement. She slipped out the door, bumping into Raul.

“The hell are you doing?” she hissed at him, brows knit in frustration.

“Keeping an eye on you, Boss.” He looked down at her, “I hear breaking and entering’s highly frowned upon around these parts.”

Six was making a face. “Doesn’t matter. I got what I needed.” A dangerous grin spread across her face.

Raul looked concerned. “I take that to mean we’re cutting our lovely desert-inn vacation short then?”

Her features softened. “Not yet. Gotta take care of the job first.”

The look of surprise on the Ghoul’s face was genuine. “You feelin’ ok Boss?” He held a pruned hand towards her forehead in jest. “Not like you to push that raging bloodlust to the side.”

“Call it a _whim_ , Raul.” The mercenary was snipping at him, but he wasn’t wrong. _Not like you to care about helping strangers._

A small part of the old tinkerer felt a glimmer of something… _hope?_ He mentally chided himself. _She’s never going to be like Rafaella, old man_.

A white-grey cloud blew past his head as Six returned to chain smoking. “I think we should walk around Novac. Maybe one of the settlers saw something.” She was tapping at her chin with a dirty fingernail. “How does a person get taken away in the night and nobody sees a thing?”

“Boss?” Raul was clearly confused.

“Hm?” her mind was far away, working through the facts.

“What exactly is this job?” they were wandering out the gate.

“Wouldn’t be as much fun if I told you, Raul.” She was playing it close to the chest.

The Ghoul resigned with a sigh. “Whatever you say Boss. And what could possibly go wrong? We’re following _your_ plan.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

 

***

The day had been long and hot and Six was still no closer to finishing the job. The thought irritated her, and she spat on the pavement.

“A very ladylike habit, Boss.” Raul was making a face.

“Never said I was a lady, old man.” There was already a cigarette in her mouth. She turned her head to look at him. “You tryin’ to tell me something?” she wiggled an eyebrow at the Ghoul.        

“Boss-”

The courier was tumbling backwards, a strange gargle escaping her mouth. Raul’s reflexes were quick, and he caught her forearm. She gripped his wrist, clapping her other arm over his and pulling herself forward. Dropping his arm, she turned, ready to unleash fury. The man standing in front of the pair had filthy white hair with a beard to match. There was something off about him. His eyes were saucers, and he was muttering. Whether it was to himself or the two of them was unclear.

“Careful. They got spies all over.”

“What?” Six was irritable, tired, and hot. The strange man was backing up, something in his eyes not quite right. She blew air out of her mouth, a hand to her forehead in exasperation. “Look, we don’t mean any harm.”

“We’ll just see about that. You come any closer and I’m liable to stick you with my stickin’ knife.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Ol’ Sticky’s feeling mighty ornery this day.”

 _This guy is off his fucking rocker._ _Must be that No-Bark guy the settlers were talking about._ The courier glared at the old man, her hand sliding to the gun at her hip. “You might wanna rethink that, friend.”

“I give up! Please don't do no harm to me, missy, leastaways not my face. All I got left is my rugged good looks.” His hands were in front of his face, the texture telling of his age. “What do you want to know?” A dark eye peered from behind his hands. The merc raised a solitary eyebrow, staring him down.

“Why do they call you No-Bark?” her eyes were piercing, and the flaky vagrant couldn’t look away.

“Cause they know I ain't just barking here. What I say's got bite, 'cause it's the truth.” There was a look of personal pride on his face, his thumb to his chest.

“What do you know about the abduction of Boone’s wife?” Raul’s mouth twitched at the question. _That’s the job?_

“Seen it all. Seen shadowy folk come to his room and leave again in the middle of the night.” He walked his fingers through the air in front of his face. “Thought one might've gone in the lobby, too, for a spell…” He was stroking his beard with unfocused eyes. “I thought it was cannibals, come to eat us all for sure, so I kept out of sight. But now I know better.”

            An impish smile. _Bingo._ “I see. Well, No-Bark, my friend and I have to get going now.”

            No-Bark was looking around, paranoid. “If anyone asks, we never spoke.”

            “You got it.” Six turned to the Ghoul. “C’mon Raul. I’m thinking I might fancy a nap.” She was already working the smokes out of her pocket as she stepped forward. _We got a lobby to search tonight._

***

            A rough hand was shaking her awake. Raul’s face was blurred in her bleary-eyed state. “Boss? You told me to let you know when that innkeeper packed it in for the night.” He picked up the near-empty whiskey bottle by the neck with two fingers. “Party for one?”

            Six ran her tongue around her mouth, a burp escaping. She could taste the whiskey. “Apparently so.” The courier felt the pleasurable, rubbery sensation in her limbs, a dopey grin on her face.

            “Why do I get the feeling that lighting a match near your mouth would be a bad idea?” Raul’s arms were crossed over his chest.

            She scratched her head, pulling her hair to her crown and tying it up absentmindedly. “Not a clue old man.” The courier stood, clapping him on the shoulder heartily. “We got a safe to rob. Let’ get goin’.” Gloved fingers grasped at the spot she’d approximated the gun belt was, her vision doubled. She worked the deadly cummerbund around her hips, fingers brushing the pearlescent ivory of the revolver.

            The heel of Raul’s palm was at his forehead, a groan escaping. “You sure this is a good idea Boss?” His eyes were studying her. _You’re drunk, Boss._

            “I’m _fine_ , now can we get goin’? Safe’s not gonna unlock itself my rotting friend.” The courier was padding to the door, hand reaching for the knob.

The Ghoul cleared his throat. “Boss?”

“ _What_!?” her cheeks were flushed with drink and irritation.

His eyes were on her feet. “You think you might wanna put some shoes on, or is this a feel-the-sand-between-your-toes kinda vacation?” Her attention was drawn downward.

“Suppose you have a point there.” Her hand was at her chin, the blue of her eyes zoning out on the pattern in the filthy carpet.

He was shoving something at her chest. “I have a bad feeling about all this Boss.” The grin she gave him in response did little to reassure the Ghoul.

 

***

 

            Her eyes were squinting, a whisper of smoke rising from the cigarette in her mouth. Drunk or not, her hands were steady, deftly picking at the exterior lock.

            “C’mon you fucker.” She was muttering to herself, working the bobby pin. The lock popped with a satisfying click, and she squeezed the ends of the bobby pin together, returning it to her hair.

            “You’re pretty good at that, Boss.” Raul was standing watch.

            “I know.” She turned the doorknob slowly, the door open just wide enough for her to slip in. “You watch. Any sign of trouble, gimme a signal.” The remains of the cigarette streaked past his face as she flicked it away.

            “What-” the door was already closed in his face. “Signal?” he finished lamely. “Great idea to have the Ghoul with the cataracts standing watch, Boss.” Raul was frowning.

            The Pip-Boy light hummed in the dimness. A Sunset Sarsaparilla machine in the corner cast a red glow around the room as she made her way to the small black square in the floor. Six sank to her knees, freeing the bobby pin from her hair. “Let’s see whacha got for me, Jeannie May…” Her hands worked skillfully at the lock, there was the click, and she was swinging the door upwards, her muscles straining at the weight of the steel. _Jackpot_.

            There was very little in the actual safe: pre-war money, a sizeable sack of caps, and a faded piece of paper, tri-folded. _Official looking_. She shoved the caps into the pouch at her belt with one hand, the other retrieving the document.

            “Bill of Sale?” something about it made her blood run cold. Fingers unfolded the top and bottom edges, a gloved hand smoothing the out the wrinkles against her thigh. Bleary eyes skimmed the neatly printed handwriting on the wrinkled page, eyes going wide.

            “Oh god.” A hand came to her mouth. “1500 caps for Carla and the-” she felt the bile moving up her throat and swallowed hard to no avail. _Can’t throw up in here!_ The safe closed with a slam, and it was a mad rush to the door. Her lithe form was a blur, and she skidded to a halt in the dirt, dropping to her knees to retch. The taste of alcohol coming back up was less than pleasant and she spat the drool from her lips, blowing hard. A hand was at her mouth, wiping the leftover slaver away.

            “Too much excitement, Boss?” Raul was behind her. He reached as if to put a hand on her back, but pulled away. It was too uncomfortable, too intimate.

            “I don’t wanna talk about it, Raul.” She spat again, pulling herself into a standing position. _I don't wanna think about it either. What kind of human garbage sells a pregnant woman to the Legion_? Blue eyes stared over her shoulder, studying the mottled green of the dinosaur. “Just one last thing I gotta do. You’re sitting this one out, my friend.” She clapped the Ghoul on the shoulder, walking past him and towards the town of Novac.

            “Boss?” he knew the merc wouldn’t answer, and breathed a sigh. “Ever gonna let me in on these crazy plans of yours?”

 

***

 

Six was knocking frantically at the old woman’s door. “Jeannie May? Jeannie May!” she’d poured a real sense of panic into her voice, knowing the Dino Dee-Lite’s owner would respond accordingly. As if on cue, her silver head was peeking out the door, brows furrowed.

            “What’s all this? Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?” She was angry at being disturbed.

            “I’m so sorry to wake you like this, but I need you to come with me. Right now.” There was urgency to the courier’s voice. She could tell by the look on the woman’s face that she’d been hooked by the bait. _Now to get her to that fucking dinosaur._

            “Why? What’s going on?” Jeannie May was shuffling out the door, a hand closing it behind her. She was still wearing the dress from the front desk.

            “There’s something you should see. It’s in front of the dinosaur- we have to go _now!_ ”

            There was alarm in the innkeeper’s eyes. _She’s fearing the worst about now. But it’s going to be much worse…_ Six fought the urge to smile, fanning the woman forward at a jog. _Boone better be up there._

            A gloved hand was feeling at her back pockets, liberating the maroon beret. She stayed a few paces behind the woman, the hat scrunched tightly in her hand. Their footsteps echoed into the courtyard as the women passed the office. Six could make out a rocky outcropping. “Towards the rocks- you get up there and you can’t miss it!” _And Boone can’t miss you._

            Jeannie May had reached the rocks, ambling slowly to the flat surface, her eyes scanning all around her. “What am I supposed to see?” Her eyes were on the courier, and she noticed the deep burgundy of the sniper’s beret on her head.

            Six watched the realization dawn on the old woman’s face as the bullet met its mark between her eyes. “Oh.” It was the last thing she ever said, her body twisting and tumbling over the rocks to the ground below.

            There was a smirk on the courier’s face as she flashed a thumbs-up to the sniper. _That’s what you get you slaving piece of shit._ She spat on the woman’s corpse, turning on her heel and heading for the gate.

            She screwed up her face, pushing the door to the dinosaur open, laser-focused on the door at the portal at the top of the stairs. The whiskey seemed to be keeping the walls at bay, and she breathed a sign of relief, pushing the door to the sniper’s nest open with gusto.

            Craig Boone was eyeing the strange woman. “Well, I guess that’s it then.” His tone was curious. “How did you know?”

            Her hand was reaching into a jacket pocket. She produced the worn paper of the contract, her features and voice softer than usual. “I, uh,” She paused, taking a deep breath. “There was a Bill of Sale in Jeannie May’s safe.” She pressed it into his chest, suddenly desperate to be rid of it. “I knew somethin’ wasn’t right with her…” her words trailed off, watching Boone’s eyes narrow, scanning the lines of handwriting. His fist closed around the paper, crushing it.

            “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’d be like them to keep paperwork.” He was pulling something from his pocket. “Here, this is all I can give.” The bag arced through the air, landing with a jingle in her hand. “I think our dealings are done here.” He shoulderd the sniper rifle, making to move past her in a hurry, his hand snatching the beret from her head.

            “What will you do now?” Her question hung in the air, and the sniper turned, training his eyes on her.

            “I don’t know. I won’t be staying, I know that. Don’t see much point in anything right now, except hunting Legionaries.” His eyes rested on the gun at her hip. “Maybe I’ll wander, like you.”

            “Come with me.” The thought had slipped through her lips, involuntary. “We could go after the Legion.”

            “You don’t want to do that.” He was glaring at her.

“We’ll kill more with two of us.” _Well, three if you count Raul…_ Her face was confident, one brow raised at him.

“That might be true. And that’s reason enough for me to take you up on it, I suppose. But this isn’t gonna end well.” Boone scratched at his chin, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “Fine. Let’s get out of here.” He slid past her, loping down the stairs two at a time. She was right on his heels, anxious to leave the darkness of the shop.

Six heard him muttering under his breath. “I hated this fucking dinosaur, anyway.”

“Boone, I think we’re gonna get along just fine.” She tapped a cigarette against her palm, sticking it between her lips.

“Uh, whatever you say,” he paused, looking over his shoulder at her. “What _is_ your name?”

“Call me Six.” A cloud of smoke billowed into the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That. Fucking. Dinosaur.
> 
> Hi everybody! I hope you are enjoying this. I am really enjoying writing the different characters here. Six is MUCH different than my SS in my FO4 fics. I love it.
> 
> Up Next: Let's go find Benny and kick his ass.


	4. One Step Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boulder City, anyone?

**Chapter 4: One Step Closer**

 

            _The light of the lamps reflects artfully across the 9mm pistol. Things move in slow motion making heavy trails across her vision. The checkered jacket rustles with the man’s- Benny’s- movements as he begins the slow process of drawing and aiming the gun at the woman’s head. Six watches it play out from the sidelines, a sick grin on her face. She paces around the perimeter faster than time, studying the look of horror reflected on the identical features. The woman’s pleas sound foreign to her. Two black boots are standing at attention next to the whimpering figure and the courier pulls herself into a crouch, leaning in to whisper. Her lips brush the woman’s ear as she makes her confession._

_“He should have killed us both.”_

 

***

            Six’s back was ramrod straight, her eyes wide. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, and she was burning in spite of the coolness of the night. The sleeping bag had twisted around her, shifting her clothes uncomfortably. Booted feet kicked the filthy yellow fabric from her legs while thoughtless hands ripped at the zipper on her jacket. The world felt like it was closing in on itself, her breaths shallow and ragged. The courier struggled to gulp the air back into her lungs, feeling the panic creeping up her chest and constricting her throat.

            “Hey.” A strong hand was shaking the canteen at her. “Drink.” The gravel of Boone’s voice had slammed her back to earth, and she took the canteen with shaky hands and an affirmative nod his direction. The sniper wasn’t going to pry. He was familiar enough with the symptoms of nightmares. _Not my business_.

            The water carved a cool path down her throat and into her gut and she drank deeply, wiping her mouth with a sleeve. Her breathing had slowed, and the orange of the campfire danced around the curtain of hair she was now twisting to the crown of her head. An empty liquor bottle landed next to her.

            “Probably not the best idea, drinking yourself into a coma.” His tone was matter-of-fact. They had all been travelling together for a whole day and this was the most he’d spoken. Angry eyes met his gaze, but she stayed quiet. Blue orbs roamed the small circle of their makeshift campsite, falling on the sleeping Ghoul. _At least there’s only one person bitching at me_.

            “I’ll take watch.” There was contention in her voice.

            “No need.” His face was emotionless. “Only been at it for a couple’a hours.” Emerald eyes scanned the dark horizon; the rifle perched across his lap.

            “I can’t sleep.” Bare arms crossed over her chest like a petulant child.

            “Drink more water.”

            She eyed the canteen with a frown, suppressing the urge to throw it at him. There was a throbbing sensation in her head and common sense told her the former soldier was right. Didn’t mean she wanted him to be. A gloved hand grabbed at it, spinning the cap haphazardly and drawing it to her mouth.

            Boone studied her, eyes lingering on her scars. There was a stark contrast between the woman when she was on the road and…this. It made him uncomfortable. Part of him wanted to ask about the scars, the other wasn’t interested in making idle chit chat. His reason for sticking around had been simple: he was in her debt. The handful of caps didn’t cut it, not really. They’d reach Boulder City soon enough and he’d be able to better assess the situation.

            A gloved hand was shaking the canteen in his face, catching him off guard. “You want?” Her eyes appeared sunken in her face. Dark violet ringed her eye sockets, and exhaustion had etched its signature into the lines in her forehead.

            “How long has it been since you got a decent night’s rest? You look like shit.” The question surprised him, but he let it hang in the air.

            The sigh she heaved in return told him what he needed to know, and silence overtook them save the crackling of the campfire.

            “Look, how about you get some shut eye. Raul and I can handle things tonight.” _Too nice_. “You’re gonna be useless if you keep this up.”

            Six didn’t have the energy to fight him and flopped back onto the sleeping bag, letting her eyes close. Soft snores weren’t far behind, and for the remainder of the night she slept deep and dreamed of nothing.

 

***

            Boulder City looked like a small nuclear arsenal had gone off. Twisted rebar clawed at the sky from the ruined buildings. Whether it was the aftermath of the bombs or some new expression of military force remained to be seen. The warped asphalt of the road lead a path directly into the demolished town.

            “Always a positive sign when the first thing you see in town is a saloon.” The courier made to walk in the direction of the Big Horn Saloon and Boone eyed her warily. She paused, noticing the rectangular stone monument for the first time. An NCR soldier blocked most of the words, and she squinted. “What’s that?”

            The NCR soldier turned, his face somber. “It commemorates the battle at Hoover Dam. The Rangers lured the best of Caesar’s Legion into Boulder City then blew the whole town up.” He threw a backwards glance at the carvings on the monument. “My older brother sacrificed himself so they could evacuate some of the wounded.”

            “I’m sorry to hear that.” It was the most appropriate response.

            “Don’t worry about it.” His attention had turned back to the carvings, his eyes scanning the words he’d already read many times over. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him about Benny. The compassionate thought startled her.

            “C’mon” was all she said to her companions, and they picked their way along the short path to the saloon’s heavy wooden door.

            The interior was largely intact, a proper looking barkeep standing attentively at the back of the oversized room behind the bar top. Several booths were arranged in neat rows and there were tabletops parked to their left. Perhaps the most impressive accouterment was the working jukebox and it’s flashing neon piping.

            The man’s voice echoed through the empty space. “A customer! Not many people come through Boulder City these days.”

            Six stepped forward, companions in tow. “What can you tell me about Boulder City?”

            He was beaming, excited to talk to live humans. “Most of the town is rubble. Destroyed during the battle of Hoover Dam. Travellers on the188 just up the road said that the Legion has overrun a couple’a towns to the south.”

            Boone’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the would-be Romans.

            Six wanted to keep the conversation on track. “You seen a guy in a checkered suit? Name of Benny?” She was leaning over the bar top, her face propped on dainty hands.

            “Sorry ma’am. Ain’t seen nobody like that. You might want to ask around town.”

            The courier’s face fell, and she slid her elbows off the counter. “Fine.” An exasperated sigh. “What do you have for sale?”

            “Have a look.” He was smiling like the cheerful idiot he was as she perused the wall behind him. The three of them ordered, stocking up on a few things. The merc took a seat in one of the booths, motioning for her colleagues. Raul slid in next to her and, not surprisingly, chugged a sugar-rich Sunset Sarsaparilla.

            “ I don’t know how you can drink that stuff so often.” Her face was comically scrunched, and she flicked the bottle for emphasis.

            “Don’t deny an old man his pleasures, Boss.” His smile was genuine and warm. It made her uncomfortable.

            “Why are we here?” Boone’s voice was humorless, his broad arms crossed over his chest.

            “So that you’ll ask why we’re here of course.” She gave him the side eye, waggling an eyebrow. He met this with a something between a “hrumph” and a growl making her chuckle. “You know anything about Benny? Ever seen a guy in a checkered coat?”

The sniper’s head shook slowly. “No. Never heard of him.”

“Well then, have I got a story for you.” Her voice was bitter as she swept a hand to her hairline. “I know you’ve noticed these.” She was tapping at the scar of her forehead.

Boone gave a cautious nod. Raul winced slightly, having heard the story and seen the fresher, still-stitched-up versions.

“He’s the guy who gave them to me.” The silence hung in the air making each of them uncomfortable. The courier continued, her voice slicing through the quiet. “I was a courier with the Mojave Express. I was given an assignment,” she worked something out of her pocket, unfolding the small parcel and sliding it across the table at the former soldier. “I know from reading this that it was a platinum chip. I know I was number six, and I know that Benny shot me.” She sucked a breath through her teeth, exhaling heavily. “I just don’t remember anything else.”

Raul studied the look on Boone’s face, watching as the tension in his shoulders eased just slightly. He’d made it obvious that he was a man of few words, and it was readily apparent now as the green of his eyes moved over the contract.

“What the Boss is trying to say is that this is a revenge kick.” The soda bottle was empty as he set it on the table.

She was idly playing at the neck of the bottle with her fingertips, her mind somewhere else. “Call it what you will, Raul, but until somebody buries _you_ alive you don’t get to judge me. What would you even know about revenge?”

The ghoul folded his hands leaning his ruined forehead against them. “Nothing, Boss. Nothing at all.” His tone betrayed something, but she was too preoccupied to give it a second thought as he slipped out of the booth, muttering something about fresh air.

“So why are we in Boulder City?” Boone’s voice sounded louder in the quiet of the bar.

“Your daytime doppelganger.” She was watching him, trying to suss out if he was telling the truth.

“My what?” Boone’s eyebrows were knit together.

“That guy, Vargas. I went snooping on his computer. Turns out he’s friends with the wrong sort of people.” She busied herself lighting a cigarette.

“The Khans.” His tone was matter-of-fact.

“Yup. And it turns out the Khans,” she exhaled a plume of smoke away from their faces, “were the ones working with Benny and Mr. Vargas put them all up for an evening in Novac.”

The sniper was frowning more than usual. “Sounds about right. He never did seem able to leave that part of his life behind.” It didn’t matter that Manny had nothing to do with Carla’s disappearance, it hadn’t changed the way he’d acted towards her.

“Didn’t exactly like his tit for tat routine.” She was chuckling to herself. “A bit too literal if you get my drift.” Another plume of smoke disappeared towards the ceiling. “We should probably see what else is going on around town. Burnin’ daylight.”

A curt nod from Boone and the pair gathered everything up. Six slung Raul’s pack over her shoulder, annoyed at the extra weight. “Honestly, why that Ghoul can’t bring his shit with him...” She continued to mumble darkly as the heat of the day blasted both of them in the face.

“Raul! You left your pack-” The look on his face as he studied the revolver in his hand gave her pause. “Lucky for you the boss has got your back, right?” A gloved hand proffered the pack towards him.

“Yeah Boss, lucky me.” The gun disappeared into the holster, and a melted hand grasped at the pack. He shucked it onto his shoulders with a grimace. “These knees ain’t what they used to be.”

She sidled up to him, meeting his gaze. “You alright, old man?” Her hand was on his shoulder.

He covered her hand in his own without thinking. “It’s nothing, Boss. Just thinkin’ about the past.” Six was suddenly uncomfortable with the closeness, and gently slid her hand from under his.

“Not really a problem I can relate to.” She smiled, knocking a fist against her head. “You sure you don’t want this spry young thing to carry some of those sodas?”

“Can’t risk you raiding my stash, Boss.” He readjusted the strap on his shoulder with a slight smile.

“Looks like there’s something going on up ahead.” Boone was shielding his eyes with a hand, eyeballing a fenced off area.

 

***

            Lieutenant Monroe stood at the makeshift gate, holding an authoritative hand out towards the travellers, and eyeing Boone’s beret. “We’ve got a situation with some Great Khans right now. The brass has ordered a lockdown of the ruins until it’s been resolved.”

            “What’s going on with the Great Khans?” Her ears had perked up at the mention of the group.

            “One of my patrols was on its way back from Novac when it came under fire form the Khans. They stupidly charged ahead instead of waiting for backup, and managed to get themselves caught in the crossfire. No deaths, but they’ve taken two of my people hostage.” His concern was palpable.

            “These people have names?” She was idly picking at the hem of a glove. _This is my chance to get ahead of the game._

            He looked her up and down somewhat suspiciously. “Private Ackerman and Private Gilmore.”

            Six looked at the Lieutenant thoughtfully. “These Great Khans might have something of mine- a Platinum chip. I may be able to negotiate a deal with them.”

            The soldier looked annoyed, but reluctantly answered her unspoken question. “Normally, I’d turn you down since I have no idea who you are, but considering the hostages are as good as dead when we attack…” His hand was at his chin, fingering the whiskers thoughtfully. “All right. I’ll give you a chance to talk to them. Their leader is a man named Jessup.”

            “Good to know. I’ll assume my friends here are also welcome to come along for the ride?” she quirked a brow at the Lieutenant.

            “Let’s put it this way, sweetheart- If we hear shooting, we’ll be coming in but it’ll probably be too late for you.”

            Six smiled mockingly at the man, pushing the door open. “Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself in a fight.” Both of her travelling companions followed wordlessly. Boone gave the lieutenant a quick nod, ducking through the portal.

 

***

            There was one working door left in the ruins of Boulder City. The three gunslingers stood outside, agreeing on a plan of action.

            “Just let me do the talking.” Six’s hand was on the hilt of her gun, her eyes screwed up in determination. “Boone, you take the rear.” A small hand snatched at his beret. “And for Christ’s sakes, take that damn thing off!” He peeled the wool felt from her fingers, grumbling under his breath, but shoving it obediently into a pocket.

            “Alright. Let’s get this done.” Her eyes burned. Raul knew to leave well enough alone when she got like this, and fell in line. A small hand twisted the doorknob, the door groaning desperately on rusted hinges.

            “What the hell? You’re-you’re that courier Benny wasted back in Goodsprings!” Fear played in the Khan’s eyes, a finger pointed at her. “You- You’re supposed to be dead!”

            “Well I am obviously very much alive, and I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Her words were as smooth as expensive liquor, her shoulders square, her body taller.

            “Yeah…about that…” Jessup’s voice shook, and he stared at the floor.

            “I’m only going to ask this once. _Where_ is the Platinum chip, Jessup?” Her eyes would have burned a hole through the man had it been possible.

            “Don’t have it. Benny stole it right before he stabbed us in the back.” His voice got quieter, and he seemed to be talking to himself more than her. “He’s probably back at the strip by now, laughing at me.”

            “Well now, that’s neither here or there. Sounds like my next stop is the Strip.” She turned as if to leave, Boone’s stone face forcefully reminding her of their additional purpose there. Her face flushed slightly, and she threw a sweet look over her shoulder, turning back to the Khan leader.

            “Ah, but before I go, let’s talk about settling this business between you and the NCR.”

            “What’s to negotiate? The NCR backs off, we walk out of here, nobody gets hurt.” The tribal was trying to gain the upper hand.

            “How about you free the hostages now, and I’ll have the NCR personally escort you from their territory?” Her fingers tightened around the grip of the revolver, a dangerous smile playing across her features.

            Jessup knew when he’d been beat. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but alright, the hostages can go.” He met her gaze, a hard look on his face. “NCR had better keep their end of the deal though.”

            “They have no reason not to if you’ve released their people.” She turned to leave with a swish of her hair.

            “Hey-” A small silver object was arcing towards her, landing in her cat-like grasp. “Souvenir for you. It’s Benny’s lighter. Shove it up his ass when you catch up with him.”

            Six gave the Khan a small nod, heading out the door. She slipped the lighter in her pocket, an impish grin on her face. _I’ll be sure to do just that, friend._

 

***

Boone waited until they’d confirmed the Khan plans with the Lieutenant, rounding on the courier. “What the hell was that back there? You get what you want outta the guy and you just try to leave?”

Six frowned, shrugging thoughtlessly. “Maybe that was just part of the plan.”

“Being selfish and putting a group of people at risk on a whim part of your _plan_?” His words stung, but she couldn’t put her finger on a reason.

“I ain’t out here for the NCR, soldier boy.” She was working the cigarettes from her pocket, holding one between her lips. An oversized hand swiped it from her, staring her down.

“I agreed to travel with you because I owe you a debt. Once we find this Benny guy I’m outta here, got it?” The low register combined with the gravel of his voice was menacing. A small, swift hand stole back the cigarette, and she lit it with Benny’s lighter. A cloud of smoke billowed from her mouth in his direction.

“Loud and clear, _Sir_.” She fired off a mocking salute, starting forward. _Asshole._

Raul stifled a chuckle against the back of his hand. _About time somebody called her on it._

“Boss?” the Ghoul spoke tentatively.

“ _What_?” she snapped back.

“Isn’t Vegas that way?” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, suppressing a grin. She studied the map at her wrist, cursing under her breath. The courier turned the party around reluctantly.

“Anyone ever tell you that you have a great sense of direction, Boss?”

“Fuck you, Raul.” Her hands were shoved in the jacket pockets, small clouds of smoke puffing out of her mouth like a steam engine as they walked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Sorry for lack of updates. When depression kicks in, everything I create feels like a steaming pile of dog shit. I appreciate your patience. If you're also a fan of Mushroom Cloud I am looking to update that ver soon.


	5. Misunderstood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio picks there way towards the Strip.

**Chapter 5: Misunderstood**

 

Six’s bad mood had lingered like an angry storm cloud over the party until the bright lights of New Vegas dotted the horizon. She had pushed her companions to travel through a good stretch of the night, anxious to slide herself through the gates and a bullet into Benny. Boone hadn’t spoken, just stopped to crouch and peer through his scope every so often. Whether he was giving them the silent treatment or not eluded the courier. It was irritating.

 

“Hold up.” The sniper had stopped in his tracks.

 

She threw a growl over her shoulder at him, begrudgingly coming to a stop. “What?” her words were clipped.

 

He was pointing in the distance.

 

“Look, eagle-eyes not everyone trained as a snipe-” He cut her off, shoving the rifle into her hands and tapping the scope. She raised it to her right eye, moving it around to adjust the view. “Boone I don’t see…” She trailed off, the barrel tracing the securitron’s path through the wasteland. “Sonofabitch.”

 

“The robot’s been keeping a very neat distance from us all day.” She pictured his eyes narrowing behind the tinted shades in the darkness.

 

“Looks like Boss has a fan.” Raul shrugged at her furious expression. “What?”

 

Strong hands tugged at the gun, and Six released it, staring into the distance. “Thought you’d want to know.” She nodded slowly, paranoia grasping at her insides. The courier was suddenly very thankful to be travelling with companions.

 

Boone studied her face, adding, “I haven’t seen anything suspicious besides the robot. I don’t think there’s a threat there.” He wasn’t sure what possessed him to reassure the self-absorbed gunslinger, a cloud of her smoke drifting past him.

 

“S’fine.” The cigarette’s smoke trail followed the wave of her gloved hand. “We should get moving.”

 

The Ghoul took note of the tremors shaking her hands. “You’re gonna make sure this old man doesn’t gamble away his retirement, right Boss?” She didn’t respond, but he was sure he’d seen her cheek twitch from smiling.

 

***

“I don’t _want_ to stop here for the night, I _want_ to get onto the Strip.” Her patience was tapped out, dark eyelids drooping. She ignored the NCR soldier guarding the exterior of the repurposed airfield, her back to him as she groused at her companions.

 

Boone’s voice rumbled from his chest with similar bravado. “Seeing as you’ve never been to the Strip-”

 

She jumped in quickly, cutting him off. “You don’t know that!”

 

“Neither do you.” That shut her up long enough for him to finish, a scowl painted across her features. “We don’t want to be wandering around Freeside at night. Too dangerous.”

 

Raul nodded from behind the sniper, his arms crossed over his chest.

She pulled the revolver from her hip, waving it around lackadaisically. “I think Mr. Magnum might have something to say about that.” Boone’s hand closed around her grip on the gun, lowering the revolver and her arm back to her side.

 

Raul spoke up. “Boss, we’ve been on the road for almost two days straight. This old Ghoul’s knees are achin’ somethin’ fierce.” He bent forward, scarred hands rubbing at his knees in unison.

 

Six knew she’d been outgunned, throwing her hands in the air. “Fuck it! Let’s waste _more_ time camping _right in front of_ where we’re heading.” Her hands were parallel as she gestured, emphasizing each word.

 

“You wanna turn down sleeping in a military-guarded fort, fine by me.” Boone pushed past her, the night guard catching his drift and lifting the heavy metal roller door until the mechanism caught and it slid up on its own.

 

The courier’s mouth hung open, the look of rage slowly boiling across her face.

 

“Wish I had a First Recon guy lookin’ out for me.” The guard watched Boone’s retreating form, a pair of indignant blue eyes staring daggers at him. Raul shook with silent laughter.

 

***

The sniper roused early the next morning, strange specters from his dreams tugging him awake. Six had stubbornly dragged a filthy mattress close to the doorway that night, muttering something about not trapping smoke inside the tent. He watched her curiously, a soft, rhythmic snoring coming from the pallet. She’d crashed almost as soon as her head hit the padding, legs and arms akimbo. _Even firecrackers burn out_. He chuckled to himself and grabbed at the battle-hardened sniper rifle, drawing a grease-stained rag from a pocket and going to work.

 

He’d been a quick study at dismantling and reassembling the weapons in the field during his NCR training. The sniper treated the rifle almost as well as he’d treated Carla. Thoughts of her made his eye twitch and he blinked hard, trying to stop the ticking. _Don’t worry, Craig, your time is coming._ His hands had reassembled the pieces of the rifle automatically while his mind was elsewhere. Boone cocked it emphatically and the courier sprang out of bed with a startled cry, revolver in hand.

 

Sapphire eyes circled the room and landed on him. Paranoid alarm devolved to righteous indignation. “What the fuck, Boone?” A gloved hand was wagging the gun at him. “I could have shot you!”

 

His eyes narrowed. “How about I aim my gun at you for a while, see how you like it?”

 

She rolled her eyes theatrically, returning the pistol to her hip. “Dramatic much?” The courier was teasing her companion, trying to figure out how to thank him for making them stop and rest. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

 

Pink crawled up his face from his neck, eyes down, his mouth a thin line. “Only see one actor here, and it ain’t me.”

 

Six was taken aback at the bite of his tone. “Excuse me?” the leather of her jacket squeaked as her arms crossed.

 

“You heard me. You put on a show everywhere you go. It’s a wonder somebody didn’t put a bullet in you sooner.”

 

The last sentence was like a sock to the gut, the shock of emotion knocking the wind from her sails. “You’re welcome to try it, soldier boy but I’d put money on the quick draw with the revolver over you and that thing.” She nodded towards the rifle, anger getting the better of her. It was like watching a magician's slight of hand. The Magnum was swept up in her grip and aimed at his face in the blink of an eye. Six executed another fancy move, spinning the trigger guard around her finger and depositing the six-shooter back into the holster just as quickly. She turned on her heel, stomping away from him. Something heavy weighted her chest. It felt foreign.

 

“You know the Boss was just messing with you when she called you dramatic, right?” The Ghoul was sitting with his back to the tent wall, arms draped over his creaky knees. “She’s not very good at saying thank you.”

 

“She’s got a really fucked up way of showing it.”

 

“Think about it, _Amigo_ ,” he stressed the Spanish. “The Boss gets shot in the head, buried alive and wakes up with no memory but a damn good set of gun slinging skills. How would you be?”

 

Boone slid the aviators down the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes with the opposite hand. Something between a groan and a sigh escaped his mouth as he adjusted the beret on his head.

 

The Ghoul pushed himself to his feet, giving the man’s shoulder a pat as he passed, muttering under his breath. “ _Chico tonto_.” He shook his head.

 

***

 

The courier was easy enough to find. One need only follow the trail of cigarette smoke to find her chain smoking just outside the mess tent, a bowl of something nondescript in her hand.

 

“Mornin’ Boss.” She grunted a response, sucking the end of the butt. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be multitasking?” He observed her posture and the fading purple at the inner corners of her eyes. _She’s always tired. Always fighting forward, even when she’s wrong._ Grief singed the corners of his heart. _She’s not Rafaella, old man._ He ignored his inner monologue, reaching out and ruffling her hair, several chunks coming loose and cascading past her ear.

 

“God damnit, Raul.” There was barely any fight in her and she shoved the black strands back behind her ear.

 

“Ugh, Boss. What is that stuff?” He pulled the spoon out, giving it a whiff. “Actually doesn’t smell half bad…”

 

The bowl was suddenly under the remains of his nose. “Take it. I’m not hungry.” She released the gruel to him, flicking the spent cigarette butt into the dead-looking grass below. A hand moved to her pocket, but she stopped, looking down to find Raul’s hand clutching it.

 

“Boss,” he paused, unsure of what he could say that wasn’t just a joke. “Can you take it easy with those? You’re supposed to outlive me, remember?” _Mi pequena_ … it was on the tip of his tongue, but he left it unsaid, letting go of her hand. “Not that I can stop you- just thought I’d try.” The ghoul shot her a dopey grin, the whites of his teeth a stark contrast to the ruined skin of his face.

 

The look on Six’s face was thoughtful, her eyes perusing the brilliant cloudless blue of the sky. Yeah, sure. Whatever you want old man.”

 

Boone watched the two of them from a distance, the interaction reminding him that the girl was human afterall. It was an unfamiliar guilt that pushed him forward, his hand fidgeting with the beret on his head until he towered over her. Raul got the hint, ducking into the makeshift mess hall with the bowl of cold slop.

 

There was no preamble, the words spilling out awkwardly. “Look, back there- I was outta line. I don’t have an excuse for saying what I did. I was never good with words and people. It was always Carla…” He left the rest unsaid, a brawny hand rubbing at his forehead.

 

Six was quiet for a long while, snaking a hand into the jacket pocket and producing the worn out pack of cigarettes. She brought it to her lips, pulling a white and brown tube out with her teeth and flipping open Benny's lighter. A gloved hand pushed the pack towards him, blue eyes gazing in front of her.

 

He slid it gingerly from her grasp, mimicking her movements, and patting at his pockets for a flame source. A flash of silver cartwheeled towards him and he caught it, lighting the cigarette.

 

“Tell me about yourself.” The sudden sound caught him off guard and he fumbled with the lighter, pressing it awkwardly into her outstretched hands. Six chuckled, the intricate carvings disappearing into her pocket.

 

“If you want. It’s not really my thing.” He paused, wondering if it had come off flippant. “What do you want to know?”

 

“You've been here. What can you tell me about New Vegas?” Her eyes were bright and inquisitive. The gunslinger was surprisingly easy to talk to when she wasn’t showboating and bossing them around like hired help.

 

He scratched at the fresh stubble on his chin, the cigarette nestled between gritty fingers. “It's NCR land, for the most part. We tamed it, now we're settling it.” The sniper paused to take a drag, smoke rings curling into the brightness of the morning. “Lot of people complain about it, but they forget what it was like before we showed up.” His face was ponderous, like he was putting the words together in his head. “It's a lot of territory to secure. Too much- even for a big army like the NCR.”

 

“You’re not a soldier anymore though, right?” she tapped at the insignia on his cap.

 

“Somethin’ wrong with the NCR?” He furrowed a dusty brow at her, the green of his eyes almost visible through the gradient lenses.

 

“Not really. I mean, I don’t think _I_ could have been a soldier. You make a good point though- about them taming the land.” She shuffled her feet, kicking up a small pile of dust. “I can only imagine what it was like without the NCR checkpoints out here.” It was the truth.

 

“Coming east was about securing the land, so people could live without fear.” She could see the gears turning under the beret. “It’s not always that simple, but I think the cause is still right.” His voice dropped, deep gravel. “And god help us if they lose.”

 

“And the Legion?” Six’s voice was mindful, not taunting.

 

“Yeah. Lots of thoughts. All about the best ways to kill them.” She could hear the pain and thirst for revenge in his voice.

 

“I meant it when I told you I would help you. I wasn’t _just_ trying to buy myself a sniper. I mean, you are quite an asset, but-”

 

“And I meant it when I said it was going to end badly.” He’d suddenly turned serious, flicking the remains of the smoke to the ground. “I’ve got bad things coming to me. You’d better keep your distance.”

 

He was being cryptic, but she decided for once not to pry further, letting a comfortable silence fall between the two of them.

 

“Ever take the beret off?” Her head was sideways, eyes studying his face.

 

“No.” His voice was gruff, but his face had lightened. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was as close as she was going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye! I liked this chapter. It was hard to write, though! I don't want to go out of character with Boone or Raul. Speaking of the best ghoul sidekick a girl could ask for, I would like to add more Spanish. If I make any mistakes, please let me know as I do not speak the language and I realize G-translate isn't always correct. 
> 
> If you have not read my other works, I would urge you to check them out. I'm also going to go ahead and post my tumblr page here because I post arts and farts on it that you might enjoy. Thanks for reading ;)
> 
> biggreenfeet DOT tumblr DOT com
> 
>  
> 
> Chico tonto- silly boy  
> Mi pequena- my small/little one

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to see a sassy, smartass, selfish courier discover what it is to be a good (better) person.
> 
> Base SPECIAL stats if you want 'em:  
> S 4  
> P 6  
> E 5  
> C 8  
> I 6  
> A 8  
> L 3


End file.
